Turn 22: The Thrappled Lemmings and a Bunch of Cults (Five Leagues from the Borderlands)

It was harvest time in Haitabu and almost everyone was out in the fields gathering in the turnips, but not the Thrappled Lemmings. They drank toasts to the local turnip collectors and supported the town by spending their money at The Prince and The Pauper, a small tavern from which they had not yet been banned. They were living high on the hog after their mapping exercise had netted them some solid gold.

Wido and Fulrad spent time training, when they were sober enough. Meanwhile, Lysanthir was thoughtful and drinking more slowly than the others.

"I think we should do something about these cultists," he muttered, "Unsavoury bunch if ever I saw something unsavoury."

The others thought about this.

"So, if we do something about them, what happens? We get gold? People buy us beer?"

"Yes," replied Lysanthir, "Something like that. And farmers will be left in peace to plant barley for more beer, so we win all ways. If we attack their camps, we could even net a solid haul from that too."

The others toasted Lysanthir's idea and went to pack their things. The Thrappled Lemmings were going to take the fight to the cultists.

"I've been doing some research, and it is clear there is someone disturbing the locals a short way out of town. I reckon it's these cultists, so we could scrag them and be back in time for last orders," declared Lysanthir. "They've been raiding the farms in the area lately, so they are likely to be celebrating and less aware than otherwise. That will be to our advantage and we can make the area secure for the barley farmers and beer brewers."

The Thrappled Lemmings marched out of town at first light the next day. Fulrad quickly found the tracks of the cultists and led the way to a local farm. The cultists were busily looting the place while chanting unspeakable gibberish. Unfortunately, the cultists had sentries out and spotted the Thrappled Lemmings coming, so they were waiting for them.

Sir Thiebault announced to the Lemmings, "Ok, they've seen us coming so it's plan B today. CHARGE!"

Battlefield manoeuvres. The red arrows show the directions taken by the Lemmings, the blue show the movements of the cultists

As Fulrad and Onesipe took up position on a hillock that gave them a good view of the battlefield, fog rolled in, chilling their bones. Sir Thiebault and the others charged towards their left, using the farm buildings as cover from the cultist they had seen with a crossbow. The cultists charged forwards, also using the farm buildings as cover.

The main battle took place to one side of the farm buildings

The cultists charged with little thought for tactics, relying on their unholy fog to give them all the cover they needed. Their lack of finesse was made up for by their unspeakable toughness granted them by their nameless gods. And as each cultist was wounded, their gods filled them with berserk fury, permitting them to redouble their efforts. Still, the Lemmings' preferred tactic of supported attacks soon told and cultist bodies started to little the battlefield. Before too long, Wido had killed the cultist leader too.

With no targets in sight, Onesipe and Fulrad moved to outflank the last of the cultists who had decided to make their stand in the farmyard. Drogo and Wido were attacking them over the fence of the yard. Drogo made a reckless assault over the fence and was driven back. Wido used his war spear to greater effect, killing one cultist and forcing the other back. This gave him space to leap over the fence and skewer the man in the blue robe. The Lemmings held the field once more and had a struck a blow that would reduce the threat the Synod of Reason posed to Utavoll.

As the Thrappled Lemmings searched the cultists and the farm for treasure (sadly very little was found), a dishevelled young woman crawled out from behind a woodpile. She was grateful for the Lemmings killing the cultists who had killed her parents and wanted to join them. She looked a likely prospect once she had been given a bit of training, but the Lemmings were a tight-knit group and were not looking for recruits just yet. Sir Thiebault gently urged her to take over running the farm and brewing beer instead. She could serve the Thrappled Lemmings best in this way, he told her.

As clouds roiled in, the Lemmings returned to the Prince and Pauper to plan their next move.